


Frustration.

by hunnybunny



Category: Olympics RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: BDSM, Corporal Punishment, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom Michael, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, M/M, Punishment, Spanking, Strapping, Temper Tantrums, Topping from the Bottom, sub Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 02:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7826077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunnybunny/pseuds/hunnybunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ryan finished 5th in the 200IM his temper gets the better of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frustration.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written before the scandal with Ryan at the 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio. This is simply a work of fiction about two swimmers.

Ryan was convinced every one of his muscles had been magically transformed into cement. He had lost. His last individual race and he’d blown it in the last lap. He was going to--should have---WOULD have gotten silver to Phelps if maybe he had just pushed a little bit harder. His coach's warning to focus 40% of his energy on the last 50 meters rang in his ears. Ryan huffed out a frustrated sigh as he shoved the key card into the slot. The light flashed red and made a sound of rejection. Ryan ripped it out and shoved the card back in only to hear a buzzing denial. His last couple of nerves snapped. Ryan took a step back and sent the heel of his sneaker into the door. A slight dent appeared in the wood, but it didn’t budge. The elevator nearby dinged, but Ryan ignored it. Boisterous laughter floated down the hallway and voices traveled. Ryan slammed his foot into the door again smiling when the wood made a satisfying cracking sound. The laughter stopped as Ryan backed up to kick the door again. Thundering footsteps approached, but the noise didn’t register until long, muscular arms wrapped around Ryan’s waist. He was pulled back into a lean body.

“Ryan, stop.”

“Let me go!”

“Enough!”

“LET ME GO!”

Michael wrapped his arms around even tighter pinning Ryan’s arms to his side and lifted him slightly off the ground to prevent Ryan getting any leverage.

“Nathan, grab the key card out of my right back pocket and get the door open.”

Nathan Adrian cautiously stepped forward reaching into Michael’s pocket, grabbing the keycard and opening the door. Nathan slipped the card back into the Olympic champion’s pocket and backed away allowed Michael to put Ryan down and shove him forcefully into their shared room. He had known Michael and Ryan for long enough to not question it.

“Thanks, Nate. See you in the morning!” Michael called cheerfully as he slammed the door shut.

Ryan stumbled into the room almost landing on his face before getting his feet under him. Anger bubbled up in Ryan’s stomach. He didn’t even know who exactly he was angry at; it wasn’t Mike or even himself. He was just plain angry. Ryan wanted to throw things, break things anything to get this unbearable knot in his chest to loosen. Michael, on the other hand, was the picture of composure; he set his bag down near the door and removed his sweatshirt. Ryan turned to Mike.

“What, Mike? What do you want? You want me to calm down? WHAT? You want me to apologize that I’m not the picture of calm, cool and collected like you? You want me to be a gracious loser? WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

Michael sat down on the bed and looked up at Ryan.

“I want you to sit down.”

Being explosively angry was impossible when the person you wanted to fight kept his voice low and steady. Ryan sat down in the desk chair and scrubbed his hands over his face. They both sat in silence for several minutes as Ryan worked to slow his breathing. Michael just sat silently watching Ryan collect himself.

“Are you ready to talk, Ryan?”

Ryan turned his face to look at the wall and shook his head.

“Ryan, look at me.”

Michael sighed when he didn’t get even a glance in his direction. He stood and made his way over to his suitcase, lifted the lid and dug into a privacy pouch. Michael sat back down on the bed, laying a thick leather strap across his thighs. Finally, Ryan looked Michael in the eyes.

“Mike, I-I-I don’t think you need that.”

Ryan rolled the desk chair backward trying to get as far away from Michael as possible.

“You will strip and bend over the desk.”

“Really, Mike, you don’t have to do this.”

Ryan bit his bottom lip and whimpered. It had been a long time since the strap had even been brought up, but it had also been a long time since Ryan lost his temper. Angry outbursts had always been a personality flaw Ryan had struggled with. He was not a fan of losing, and after several broken household items, Michael had made a new rule.

“Ryan, do not make this any harder on yourself. I am going to count to five. One.”

“I’m sorry, alright? I screwed up!”

“Two.”

“Mike, come on! You know how I feel about losing!”

“Three.”

“It was one fucking mistake!”

“Four.”

“I’M SORRY!”

“Four and a half.”

Michael stood up placing the strap down on the bed and shook out his right arm.

“Can’t we just talk about this? It won’t happen again!”

“Five.”

Ryan stood up and quickly began to tug his shirt off. Michael stopped two steps away and waited as Ryan fiddled with his belt.

“Would you like me to keep counting?”

“NO!”

“Then stop hesitating and strip.”

Ryan kicked off his shoes, wiggled his jeans off, turned to face the desk, and pushed his boxer briefs down to his ankles. 

“Grab the other side of the desk and arch your back. If your hands leave the desk I’m adding another five with the strap.”

Ryan sucked in a deep breath and did as he was told.

“You managed to earn yourself 25 with the strap which doubled when I had to count to five.”

“FIFTY? Mike, you can’t be serious!”

“Oh, I’m very serious. Would you like to shoot for even more?”

“No, Sir!”

“What’s your safeword?”

“Lane line.”

Michael smiled and leaned down to place a gentle kiss at the dip of Ryan’s back before placing his left hand there. He raised his right hand and sent it crashing down. Michael switched from cheek to cheek keeping his hand cupped and falling into Ryan’s quickly reddening backside.

“Where do I start, Ryan? You broke the door, fought me, and then you straight up refused to listen. You pushed me on purpose. Would you like to explain?”

Ryan sniffed and put his forehead down on the desk, “I don’t know!”

“We talked about you feeling guilty and trying to force me into giving you a harder punishment. If this is about you not getting a medal, Ryan, I need to know.”

Ryan sniffed again but stayed silent.

“Ryan, answer me.” Michael said putting on his ‘Dom voice’.

“Yes, Sir.”

Michael stopped spanking momentarily.

“Ryan, we talked about this! You know better than to push me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What did I say about trying to punish yourself using me?”

Ryan took a deep breath and sniffled one more time, “that you decide how and why I get punished and if I think I need one I have to ask for it.”

“Is there something you would like to ask me, Ryan?”

“I didn’t listen to my coach and pushed the first 50 instead of the last. I think you should—um—”

“That’s not asking.”

“Why are you making this so hard?”

Ryan hissed loudly when Michael’s hand connected with his right cheek.

“Ask me, Ryan.”

“Please give me a harder spanking for fucking up my race?

Michael began to rub at the heated skin of Ryan’s ass.

“Much better. I don’t think spanking you any more would get the message across, though. You’re not allowed to out for the rest of the week. No parties, no clubs, no drinks.”

“Mike!” Ryan tried to stand and protest, but Michael kept Ryan pinned down.

“You can spend your newly found free time in the warm-up pool pushing the last 50.”

Ryan let out a frustrated groan, a worse spanking would have been better.

“That sucks.”

Michael leaned down and nibbled at Ryan’s ear, “maybe after you finish your laps you I’ll give you something to suck. Right now though I think you’re due for a strapping.”

Ryan shifted from foot to foot nervously while Michael grabbed the strap from the bed.

“Spread your legs wider.”

Michael put his hand back on Ryan’s back holding him steady. The strap hit with a resounding crack that echoed through the room. A muffled whine broke through Ryan’s pursed lips. Michael let the strap fall so just the tip wrapped around Ryan’s upper thigh. A thick, red welt began to rise just as Michael sent the strap crashing into the same spot. After stroke twenty tears began to fall down Ryan’s cheeks. The stripes covered his entire ass and halfway down his left thigh. The white hot heat radiated out, settling deep in his muscles. The last five covered both cheeks making Ryan squirm in pain.

“You’re being such a good boy. Halfway done.”

Michael switched to Ryan’s right and lined up the strap. Ryan’s knuckles were white as he gripped the desk trying so hard to be good, but after forty Ryan’s control slipped and his left foot kicked up. Michael paused.

“Ryan, this is the only warning you’re going to get. Keep your feet down. Next time it happens I’m adding strokes.”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

Ryan couldn’t keep the sobs in when the strap started again. His ass was on fire. When the final stroke hit he slumped down whimpering and sobbing. Michael placed the strap down on the desk and carefully helped Ryan to his feet.

“You were such a good boy. I’m so proud of you.”

Michael wrapped Ryan in his arms letting the younger man hide his face while whispering reassurances and praise. Once Ryan had completely calmed down he looked Michael in the eye.

“You weren’t like serious about the no going out thing, right?”

Michael smiled and reached down to gently caress the inflamed skin.

“Would you like to test how serious I am?”

“Think I’m good.”

Michael chuckled and leaned down to capture Ryan’s lips. 

“Why don’t you lay down and I’ll get the cream, hmm?”

Ryan nodded and stepped back lying face down on the bed and pillowing his head in his arms. Michael delved back into the secret compartment of his suitcase pulling out a tube of salve.

“On your knees and arch your back.”

Michael squeezed some cream into his hand and began to gently apply it to Ryan’s enflamed backside. The salve abated some of the stinging but the deep ache remained. Ryan gritted his teeth trying not to wiggle too much. Once Michael covered every inch he stripped and climbed into bed next to Ryan. Ryan lay half on top of Michael looking down at his boyfriend. They kissed briefly.

“So now that you’re retired I think my ass would appreciate you skipping some arm days.”

Michael laughed and slid a hand into Ryan’s ridiculously colored hair, giving it a sharp tug.

“If you at least tried to be a good boy maybe I’d put my arms to better use.”

“Jeah?”

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll show you.”

Ryan smiled and rested his head on Michael’s pectoral settling down as Ryan flipped the lights off.

**Author's Note:**

> I am considering making this a mini-series or at least writing a couple more chapters. Thoughts?
> 
> As always, huge thanks to everyone who reads my fics. Comments and constructive criticism is always appreciated and welcomed!


End file.
